The Mysterious Message (Geronimo Stilton Micekings #5) Read online

  our miceking honor requires that we go help them!” Sven shouted. “And if they want to attack us, we must be ready to fight back with the strength of Stenchberg cheese!

  There is only one way to find out what

  the message really said. We will make an

  21

  A Message from Yan the Yawner

  official expedition to Oofadale!”

  “so says sven the shouter!”

  Ready

  to

  go,

  smarty

  -mouseking?

  Oh no!

  22

  A MESSAGE FROM YAN THE YAWNER

  All the micekings cheered with joy

  at this announcement. They hurried off to

  prepare for the expedition.

  Everyone was excited . . . except

  me!

  Great stinky clams, this journey could be

  risky,

  dangerous,

  and

  perilous!

  And I . . . I was a scaredy-mouseking!

  23

  Mission to

  Oofadale!

  As soon as Sven said the word expedition,

  I tried to sneak off without being noticed.

  With everyone cheering, I had a good chance.

  I was only half a tail

  from the door

  when someone

  grabbed

  my shoulder.

  I’m leaving!

  24

  Mission to Oofadale!

  It was Sven. “Geronimo, you spineless

  jellyfish, where do you think you’re

  going?”

  “W-w-well,” I stuttered. “I just thought I’d

  go get us some more finnbrew and maybe

  a snack. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I am hungry for adventure!” Sven

  replied. “We need to plan.”

  I tried again. “B-b-but . . . I left my

  laundry on the clothesline, and,

  um . . .”

  “Stop blabbering, blubber

  head!” Sven shouted. “As

  smarty-

  mouseking

  of this village, and the

  official reader of runes, you

  must be part of this expedition. Don’t you

  want to finally earn your very first

  miceking

  helmet?”

  I paused. A miceking helmet is the

  25

  MISSION TO OOFADALE!

  greatest honor any mouseking can

  get. It is awarded to those who show great

  strength,

  courage, and

  skill in battle.

  But my greatest strengths are in miceking

  HISTORY,

  rune grammar, and

  fjord geography, and no helmet is

  awarded for those skills.

  But if I

  did earn a

  miceking

  helmet,

  26

  MISSION TO OOFADALE!

  then Sven’s daughter, the beautiful

  Thora,

  might finally respect me!

  With a far-off look, I daydreamed

  about my miceking crush. Trap snapped me

  out of it.

  “Don’t worry, cousin,” he said. “I’ll go

  with you on this mission!”

  Great salty sardines, now I was

  really in TROUBLE! Every time my

  cousin Trap got involved, he usually tried

  out one of his crazy inventions. He has

  used me as his official test mouse, risking my

  fur every time!

  “Why are you so excited to go on a miceking

  expedition?” I asked suspiciously.

  “I’d like to see an old friend of mine in

  Oofadale, Fen Whiskersson,”

  he explained. “We went to the Young

  Miceking School for Inventors

  27

  MISSION TO OOFADALE!

  together when we were micelets.

  “He’s really nice,” Trap continued. “I’m

  hoping to discuss some of my new ideas

  with him.”

  I groaned. Shivering squids,

  not another inventor! Now I’d have to deal

  with two of them. Who knew what dangerous

  inventions

  they would make me try out?

  Faster!

  Hee hee!

  MISSION TO OOFADALE!

  Squeak!

  I really didn’t want

  to be a part of this miceking mission!

  But I had no choice.

  “I have made my decision!”

  Sven

  thundered. “Tomorrow we will set sail

  for Oofadale at dawn. But I will not be

  leaving this mission in the clumsy paws

  of you two cheeseheads.” He

  pointed to Trap and me.

  “You won’t?” I asked.

  “Of course not!” Sven shouted. “I

  will

  lead

  the mission. You two will

  accompany me. And we will need a team

  of brave warriors to go

  with us.”

  He started pointing to different micekings.

  “You! Prepare the barrels of finnbrew

  and the crates of anchovies!” he ordered.

  “You! Pack the wheels of cheese!

  29

  MISSION TO OOFADALE!

  “You, you, and you, go shine the helmets

  and the shields!

  “You, go polish the Mouseborg coat

  of arms until it glows like the sun! This

  expedition will be made in grand

  miceking style!”

  The micekings all replied together,

  “So says sven the shouter!”

  30

  Ready to Set

  Sail, Blubber

  Heads?

  I had trouble falling asleep that night. My

  whiskers trembled

  at the dangers we

  might encounter.

  How, how,

  how did I

  always end up in

  these situations?

  When the

  rooster

  crowed at dawn, I

  put my head under

  Cock-a-doodle-doo!

  31

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  the covers. I didn’t want to go. I was a

  smarty-mouseking, not a warrior!

  Then I heard a knock on my door. It

  was Trap.

  “Geronimoooo!

  Come on, Cousin! It’s time to begin our great

  mission!” he shouted.

  I tried to get out of it. “Um, I can’t find

  my boots anywhere. You go without me, and

  I’ll meet up with you in Oofadale.”

  “I can tell when you’re lying, Cousin,”

  Trap said. “Open the door!”

  I quickly thought of more excuses. “No,

  I woke up with a terrible stomachache

  and I have to run to the bathroom. And . . .

  ACHOO! I think I also caught a miceking

  cold, and I don’t want to get everyone sick!”

  Trap still didn’t believe me. “No more

  excuses, Cousin. You don’t want to

  32

  Get a move on!

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  make Sven angry, do you?” he asked.

  By my whiskers, I certainly

  didn’t want to make our village chief

  angry! At the thought of Sven shouting

  at me, I got up and got dressed. As soon as I

  opened the door, Trap grabbed me by the

  paw and dragged me along with

  READY TO SET SAIL, BLUBBER HEADS?

  him. He didn’t even give me a
chance to

  grab my backpack!

  “Let’s hurry, Cousin! They’re waiting for

  us!” Trap squealed.

  He was right. When we reached

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  the port, we found micekings loading up two

  drekars for the long voyage. Others

  were rubbing the ships’ hulls with codfish

  oil.

  I gazed up at the towering ships. Sven

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  commanded the majestic Miceking

  Hero. It was adorned with his official

  emblems. I tried to go on board, but a

  mouseking stopped me.

  “Halt! There’s no

  more room!” he said,

  holding up a paw. “Find

  another ship.”

  The next ship was the

  No room!

  Scourge of the North Sea,

  with a fearsome

  dragon on its prow.

  But another mouseking stopped me there.

  “SCRAM, smarty-

  mouseking. We’re full!

  There’s no more room!”

  “Not even for a small

  mouseking like me?” I

  pleaded.

  Scram!

  36

  Then Sven shouted

  from the prow of his

  ship,

  “micekings,

  set sail!”

  Off we go!

  I have to hurry!

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  I had one choice left . . . and I didn’t

  like it! The only drekar left was the Bated

  Breath, the shaky tub that belonged to

  Olaf the Reckless.

  And I get drekar-sick!

  “Hop on board!” Olaf called out. “Don’t

  Oh no . . .

  Hurry up, cabin boy!

  Ready to Set Sail, Blubber Heads?

  you want a free ride?”

  I gave in and climbed on board. Then we

  set sail for Oofadale, the home of the

  Oofa Oofa!

  Dragon Attack!

  Olaf put me to work. After I had organized

  our cheese supplies and cleaned the

  deck, he sent me up to the main mast to be

  the lookout.

  Me, who is AFRAID OF HEIGHTS!

  The journey started off smoothly, and

  a breeze pushed us forward. After a

  while, though, the sky began to darken.

  A strange, oddly shaped cloud was floating

  toward us.

  Was there a storm coming?

  The cloud came closer . . . and holey

  cheese, it wasn’t a storm cloud at all! It

  was much worse!

  “Dragon attack!” I shrieked.

  I see something!

  What a strange cloud . . .

  Dragon Attack!

  The micekings on all three ships rushed

  to take up their shields, bows, and

  arrows. Four dragons swooped down

  on us. We could smell their swampy stink

  and see the smoke coming from their

  nostrils.

  An orange dragon with a very, very

  long tongue licked his fangs.

  “Purple Beard, look at all that fresh

  miceking meat!” he called out to his

  friend.

  “You’re right, Blue Tail!” the other dragon

  called back. “We could gobble one for a

  sssnack and take the othersss back to

  Beastgard!”

  “Sizzle the cook makesss a great

  miceking ssstew!” said Blue Tail.

  “I prefer them roasssted,” said Purple

  Beard.

  42

  Tasty!

  Micekings!

  Sven raised his fist in the air. “You won’t

  get a taste of us, you ugly lizards!

  Micekings, ATTACK!”

  All of the micekings threw themselves

  into the battle, fighting off the

  dragons. Well, almost all. I stayed in the

  crow’s nest, so I wouldn’t

  get in anybody’s way.

  Then the LOOKOUT on the Scourge

  43

  We’re cooked!

  Attack!

  For Mousegard!

  Take that!

  Hey, ugly!

  Dragon Attack!

  of the North Sea called out to me.

  “Catch this net, smarty-mouseking!”

  He tossed me one end of the net.

  “This is no time to go fishing!” I called

  back.

  But I caught the end of the net anyway,

  and it hung between the two ships.

  We’ve got him!

  Dragon Attack!

  Whoosh! A red dragon swooped

  down and flew right into it! He got all

  tangled up in the net!

  “Hooray! One down!” the

  other lookout and I shouted.

  Meanwhile, the battle with the other

  dragons continued.

  Yes!

  I’m trapped!

  Dragon Attack!

  Some micekings fought bravely with

  bows and arrows.

  Others used long oars to fend

  off the dragons.

  Still others BLASTED them with

  jets of icy water from the North Sea.

  Everyone knows that dragons hate clean,

  cold water!

  But as bravely as we fought, we were no

  match for the enormouse, strong dragons.

  And there, out in the open ocean, we

  had no place to take shelter!

  I scanned the horizon, looking for some

  sign of land.

  I spotted a FOGGY patch of sky not

  far off. And as a scholarly mouseking, I

  knew that Oofadale was almost always

  surrounded by fog.

  Holey cheese, we were close!

  48

  Dragon Attack!

  If we could make it to shore, we could

  take shelter and be safe! I had to think of

  something, fast!

  Forward,

  Micekings!

  I quickly came up with a fabumouse plan:

  We could row at TOP SPEED until

  we were HIDDEN in the fog. But how

  could I let the others know? It wasn’t easy to

  be heard over the loud sounds of battle.

  But I tried.

  “We must go into the

  fog!” I shouted.

  “Geronimo, don’t be a blubber

  head! Now is not the time to sit

  on a log!” Sven shouted back. He had

  misunderstood me!

  So I tried to act it out. I made rowing

  motions with my arms.

  “By my beard! This is not the time to

  50

  Forward, Micekings!

  exercise, smarty-mouseking!” Sven shouted.

  He just didn’t get it!

  I had to leave my safe perch. I

  scurried down the mast and

  found Olaf and Trap.

  They don’t understand!

  Forward, Micekings!

  I quickly explained my idea.

  “GOOD THINKING, smarty-

  mouseking!” Olaf agreed.

  We ran to the oars.

  “MICEKINGS, FULL SPEED

  AHEAD!” Olaf commanded.

  The Bated Breath bolted forward. The

  crews on the other two drekars guessed our

  plan and followed in our wake toward the

  fog.

  “What do those tasssty mouthfulsss think

  they’re doing?” Purple Beard asked.

  “They won’t essscape usss!” said Blue

  Tail. />
  Purple Beard roared, “Follow them, fassst!”

  Luckily, though, the north wind

  Forward, Micekings!

  started to blow toward Oofadale,

  and helped us go even faster! Soon we were

  immersed in a fog as dense as ricotta

  cheese.

  Straight ahead!

  Faster!

  Forward, Micekings!

  “By my breath, I can’t sssee a thing!” Blue

  Tail moaned.

  “I think I sssee a drekar in front of me!”

  said Purple Beard. “Let me blassst it with

  my fiery breath!”

  He shot a blast of flame into the fog.

  “Hey!” cried Blue Tail. “You ssscorched

  my tail!”

  I can’t sssee!

  Ow! My tail!

  Zzzzzzzzzzz!

  Zzzzzzzzzzz!

  The dragons kept bumping into each other,

  and we kept sailing through the fog.

  Luckily, we quickly arrived at the port of

  Oofadale.

  We tied up the drekars at the dock and

  set out in search of the village chief, Yan

  the Yawner.

  We passed by many of the Oofa Oofa,

  but they were all asleep. They always

  nap in the afternoon. And in the

  morning time. And at noon . . . They

  are known for being very sleepy

  micekings!

  “Where is Yan the Yawner?” Sven

  asked one of the Oofa Oofa.

  55

  Oofadale: The Village

  of the Oofa Oofa

  OOFADALE is a village on the southern coast of Miceking

  Island. It is almost always engulfed in thick fog. It’s a boring

  place where nothing ever (well, almost ever) happens.

  The micekings in this village call themselves the

  Oofa Oofa. They’re generally very sleepy and

  don’t get much done during the day. Their

  official cheese is Sluggozola, which takes a

  long, long, long, long time to ripen.

  Zzzzzzzzzzz! Zzzzzzzzzzz!

  “Answer Sven the Shouter!”

  the micekings yelled.